Released
by coolcatz
Summary: Catherine is released.
1. Chapter 1

diclaimer: not mine, if they were i'd give us better spoilers

a/n: the is the companion to Release. the difference: a release is an escape. to be released is to find freedom.

Catherine sat alone in the back of her Denali looking out into the vastness of the desert. She had to make a decision and it wasn't an easy one, one that would completely alter her future. Things had been so hard lately. Lindsey. Her mother. Sam. Her job. Her promotion. Her lost friendship with Gil. Nick. It was never-ending. Problems coming so fast at her that she couldn't even begin to comprehend all of them. All she could do was react. And, yet, they still kept coming faster and faster, overlapping and becoming part of each other. She felt as if the whole world was ganging up on her and she had nowhere to hide. She had felt this way when she was younger and she ran just as fast as she could then, only to end up in a cheap motel room waiting on the latest line to release her from it all. And today she wanted to feel that way again.

Getting the coke had been easy enough. The last crime scene she had worked had been the home of a dealer and it was littered with it. There was so much of the substance on the property that the small amount she took would never be missed, besides no one she worked with would think her capable of such a thing. She was working the office by herself, photographing and collecting the evidence. She documented every last ounce with the exception of what she took. Just to be sure, she had left a small amount from the stash in place so that no void would be noticed when reviewing the evidence. She slipped the small baggy inside her shoe about halfway through. She gathered the remaining evidence, packed her kit up, and walked out to her Denali and left. No one on the scene noticed anything unusual.

At the lab she went about business as usual, turning some evidence over to trace, other to DNA and still other to prints. Then it was back to her office to piece together what had happened to the victim. Two hours later she had a good idea of what had happened, a drug deal gone bad. Three hours later, she had her preliminary report completed and was on her way home.

She didn't want it or so she kept telling herself. But it called to her day after day after day. The simple meditation involved in running a line. The care with which she would crush it into a fine powder then line up each and every last particle. The moment of inhalation. And the exhilaration that followed as the coke worked its way thru her system. So simple. So freeing. It had been so long without it. Yet she'd fought its seductive call for two months. Two long, stressful, agonizing months.

Her body shook with desire for the coke. She needed it so badly. The tightness in her chest, the hollow feeling of desire in her throat. Nothing in this world would satisfy her now. Nothing would stop her, save herself. She lifted up the bottle of Smirnoff and took another long drink, the alcohol subtly numbing her senses. She wouldn't be able to go thru with this if she was sober. She wasn't even sure how much she'd had to drink. She'd started with wine at breakfast. Drank beer all the way out into the desert. Now she had nearly finished the vodka. But if it took all the alcohol in Nevada in order for her to gain the strength to do this line then she was going to drink it.

Every time she thought she was ready for her line she thought about Lindsey and she couldn't do it. Every damned time. And every time, she took another swig from the bottle. Her daughter was everything to her. Lindsey was the reason she had stopped doing the coke in the first place. She was the reason for her going to college and getting a degree. She was the reason for the day in, day out struggle that Catherine went through.

Her mind went back to that morning. Traffic was unusually heavy for this time of the day. Her normal commute was about 20 minutes. Today, she was already at 35 minutes and still had 10 miles more to go. If traffic didn't start moving soon she wouldn't be home in time to see Lindsey off to school. Looking around she determined that the interstate was not going anywhere fast. She also saw an exit up ahead. It would be a few miles out of her way, but she would probably get home a lot quicker cutting through a few subdivisions.

Twenty minutes later she arrived home just in time to give Lindsey a kiss on the cheek as she was getting on the bus. "Bite me," Lindsey grimaced at her mother's actions. Catherine watched the bus drive off and then went into the house, tears falling from Lindsey's words.

She stared out into the desert again, not really seeing it, the tears coming again. The only thing she saw was the horrible life she had come to live. He ex-husband was dead, his murderer never caught. She'd blown up the lab. She had worked so hard on so many different levels to become the person she was only to find she was still nothing more than the person she tried to escape from. And, truth be told, that is who she wanted most to be.

The vodka was long gone. So was the beer. She looked at the lines of coke, desire clouding her blue eyes. Slowly she lowered her head down to the small mirror laying in the back of the Denali. Her eyes closed in anticipation, desire pouring through every ounce of her body. Just then her cell phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the caller ID, afraid it might be Lindsey. Relief momentarily swept over here as she realized who it was and that it wasn't her daughter. She sat the phone to the side, ignoring the caller. She looked at the lines awaiting her, sighed and started back where she left off.

Damned phone was ringing again. She picked it up and saw it was the same caller. She watched the phone, willing it to stop ringing. Quiet once again surrounded her and she sat back in the Denali, waiting for the tension that the ringing had caused to leave her body. And then, she went back to the task at hand.

She was so close to the powder, all it would take was…

The phone. Again.

Him. Again.

"What the hell do you want?" she screamed, furious that he was interrupting what was going to be the best moment of her recent life.

"Hello to you too."

"Is this important? Because I'm right in the middle of something important."

"I thought we might could have a quick meal together before my shift starts. I went to your office, but Warrick said you'd called in. I called your house and your mother said she hadn't seen you and…"

"You're babbling and I don't have time for this. Good-"

"Cath, wait."

"Damnit Gil! I told you I've got something I need to take care of."

"Catherine, where are you?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Catherine, talk to me."

"I've got to go."

"Please. Tell me where you are, whatever it is you're doing I can help. I just really need to talk to you."

"I'm in the desert."

Gil managed to pull Catherine's location out of her. He flew out of the lab. Something was wrong, she sounded drunk. He speed thru Vegas and out into the desert.

Catherine hung up the phone and looked at the coke sitting in front of her. She knew she couldn't do it now. He would know she was high. She couldn't let him see her like that again. But, then, if she went ahead and took it all in, then he'd have no proof. She sat in the back, debating with herself.

Gil pulled up behind her, shut off the engine and walked to her. She looked so tired, so confused, so hurt. Why hadn't he noticed before now? Was he too wrapped up in his own anger at her to see what was happening right in front of him?

"Hey you."

"Hey, you made it."

"So."

"Yeah." This was awkward. But it was better than him seeing why she was there.

Gil walked over the Denali to sit down, pulling Cath with him. "So much for hiding it," she thought. As he went to sit down he saw the mirror with the lines on it and it broke his heart. He knew how hard she had worked to kick the habit and wondered what had happened that was so bad to bring her back to this point.

"Wanna talk about this?" he said as he picked it up.

"Not really." She turned her body away from him, not wanting for him to see her in this state.

"How long?" He reached out to her and pulled her back to him, feeling her stiffen as he did.

"I, uh... I was about to…when you called."

"Then I'm glad I called," he said as he pulled her closer.

"Whatever." She jerked her body away from him and began walking into the desert, not caring if she ever came back. Catherine wasn't in the mood for comfort. She was in the mood for coke and now that she wasn't going to get that she was in an even worse mood.

"Talk to me." He sat in the Denali, knowing that going after her would only make her run faster. He obviously had not noticed how bad things were for her before and now that he was here, he realized that it was a wonder she hadn't done this sooner. But how could he help if she wouldn't talk to him.

"Why? You won't hear." She didn't even turn towards him. She just kept walking. He had had enough. He wasn't going to let her destroy herself. He jumped up and quickly caught up with her, taking her in his arms once again. Hoping that she would realize that he was there for her and that he would do anything in his power to make her life better.

"Try me." He took her face in his hands, looking into her eyes, wanting her to see his sincerity, to know that he wasn't going to let her fall any further. They stood there like that, neither moving, neither speaking for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he took her hand in his and began leading her back to their vehicles. He sat her down on the tailgate and hopped up beside her.

"Try you? Try you! Why all of a sudden are you so concerned with my behavior. Oh wait, I know. You're afraid it will affect your precious lab and your "above-reproach" reputation."

"Catherine, that's not true and you know it."

"Well then what is it? Afraid if I get fired your workload will increase? Well, you may as well get used to the idea because once this is reported you know I'll be gone. Ecklie's been waiting for this opportunity for years."

"But you haven't done anything, you said so yourself."

"Covering for me again? Don't bother. It just gives you another reason to insult me in private. And it puts your ass on the line and we both know you do not want to do that for me."

Gil was biting his tongue. She was drunk, she was upset and she didn't really mean what she was saying.

"I'm not your precious little whore from San Fransisco. I don't have anyone wanting to come to my rescue every time I screw up or show up on the scene drunk. I'm not that stupid blonde who thinks your bowties need to be glued together. I'm not your co-worker any longer and I haven't been your friend for even longer than that. So, tell me, how long before Ecklie and Cavello know about this?"

"Cath, you're exaggerating. You're drunk and you don't mean any of this."

"Bullshit! I mean every last word of it, you fucking prick."

"Catherine, that's enough"

"Fuck you. I hate you."

"Catherine, stop it."

"Bite my ass. And get your fucking arms away from me." She hit his chest with her arm and ran away again. "Just get the fucking hell away from me." Tears began streaming down her face as she ran so that she couldn't see where she was going. It didn't matter though. She was running away, running harder and faster than she had ever run in her life, the physical manifestation of her inner turmoil. If she fell and hurt herself or killed herself it didn't matter. She just had to get away now.

The alcohol had started to wear off along with the slight numbing of her emotions. She thought of Eddie again. The bastard left her with a child to raise alone. So she ran. She thought of Lindsey, trapped in the car and nearly loosing her life. So she ran. She thought of Gil and his hearing, how he had turned her away after his recovery from surgery. So she ran some more. She thought of Sam and her mother and the lifetime of lies they had fed her and she ran even faster. She thought of Gil's look when he found out she had taken money from Sam and she turned, not knowing where she was going, but still running away. She thought of Chris. The bastard cheated on her just as Eddie had and she felt her feet pick up speed if that was even possible. She thought of Lindsey again. Her daughter hating her so much she was willing to risk her life hitchhiking to get away from her and turned again, totally without knowledge of where she was going. She thought of that night in the bar and Adam Novak. She thought of how Gil had practically called her a whore in front of the whole lab. She thought of Nick and how he'd nearly lost his life and how she had to run to Sam and promise him a relationship with her and Lindsey in order to get the ransom money. And she thought of Gil and how he wasn't pleased with her actions. And Lindsey. How she had glowered at her this morning when she just wanted to let her daughter know she loved her. And how Gil had found her out here in this barren desert only to taunt her and take away the one thing that would help her find her release. And she ran harder and faster than she'd ever run in her life. If she couldn't numb everything with the coke then she would run until she collapsed alone in the desert and no one would find her and she wouldn't have to worry about any of it any more. And she thought of Eddie again. Damn Eddie, he was the luckiest bastard to have already died.

Gil had tried to follow her, but he couldn't run as fast as Catherine. He wasn't in the shape he had been a few years ago. It hadn't taken long for her to loose him. He realized he needed to stop his running and think. He was a CSI after all and he knew how to follow the evidence. All he needed to do was to slow down and look for footprints in the sand. He did realize this, but his heart knew that if he didn't find her quickly he wouldn't ever be able to find her again. He didn't want Catherine to become a case, he couldn't let her become a case so he stopped. He took the time to catch his breath and then began looking at the ground. It took him approximately 15 minutes but he found her footprints and began following the erratic path she had left for him. He walked slowly. Catherine was fit, but she was also drunk and she would fall out eventually, too tired to go any further. He would find her then.

Catherine had no idea where she was or how far she had ran or how long she had been running. All she knew was that she couldn't breathe and that her legs were cramping horribly. She didn't want to stop but she couldn't continue, the pain in her lungs and legs being too great. She was pushing her body to its limits. She ran on in spite of the cramps in her legs and lungs. Her vision clouded and she tripped over a rock, falling hard to the ground. She wasn't getting back up, she would just lay there till she died. She didn't care. No one cared. There were no more tear. She was beyond tears now. She closed her eyes knowing that her pain would soon be gone for good.

Gil had been following her footprints for about an hour. He was amazed that she had been able to continue her flight for this length of time in her condition. He knew he was getting close because the shoe patterns were becoming erratic and showed signs of her feet dragging. He walked on for another half hour before he found her, collapsed on the ground. He leaned over her body, gently nudging her in order to wake her. Catherine whimpered. He sat down and pulled her to him, brushing the hair from her face.

"Catherine. Catherine, c'mon, wake up." He stroked her cheek softly. "Cath, answer me."

She slowly opened her eyes. Damn it, Gil had found her. She struggled in his arms, desperate to break free. But he only tightened his gripe. He would not let her run again.

"Catherine, be still."

He looked in her eyes and what he saw frightened him. Normally when he looked at her he saw passion, fire, love, hate, rage, hope, humor, sadness, stress, flirtation. He saw life. At this moment he saw nothing but defeat. He did the only thing he could do, hold her, and as he held her he cried for her. Cried for whatever demons inside of her had brought her to this point.


	2. Chapter 2

disclaimer: not mine

Gil managed to get both of them back to the Denali and secured Catherine into the back seat. He knew she wouldn't be waking up any time soon but wasn't taking any chances of her running again. He sat in the doorway beside her gathering his thoughts.

The first issue he had to deal with was their vehicles. He couldn't risk leaving them here. He could call someone from the lab but then they would want to now what was going on and he couldn't risk that. He could call a tow truck but there was nothing wrong with his car and having her's towed would alert Ecklie that something had happened. He would have her Denali inspected and find the evidence. That definitely couldn't happen. She would loose everything. He could call her mother but she was already worried and angry. If Catherine came to with her mother driving it wouldn't be good. Then there was Sam Braun. Calling him woud open both of them up to blackmail. That idea was definitely out. He finally settled on calling Philip Kane, a friend of his who was also a psychiatrist that had helped them on several cases. He stepped away from the vehicle before dialing.

"Dr. Kane's office." It was his receptionist.

"This is Gil Grissom. I need to speak with Philip."

"One moment please. The receptionist transferred him straight through to Philip.

"Gil, how have you been?"

"Alright. Listen, I need your help."

"Straight to the point today, aren't we? This must be a big case."

"Actually no. It's personal."

"What's going on?"

"I'm in the desert with Catherine. She's…she…she's not doing well at all. She can't drive and I can't leave our vehicles. Could you and Louise run out here and drive my care back?

"No problem. I have to cancel a couple of appointments first."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Gil, what's wrong with Catherine? You could have easily called someone from work to help you out."

"She's…I'm not sure. I've never seen her like this." He looked back to the Denali and saw her stirring.

"Listen, she's coming to. I need to get back to her."

"Does she need an ambulance?"

"NO! Sorry, didn't mean to yell. Philip, would you mind clearing the rest of the day? I think she really needs to talk to someone."

"We'll be there in an hour."

The call ended and he went back to the Denali. She was still out but she was having some sort of nightmare. Gil sat on the edge of the seat beside her, stroking her hair.

"It's Ok. You're safe. I promise you that." He pushed back her hair from her face noticing for the first time the cut on her forehead. The realization that she was physically hurt from her fall hit him. He reached over Catherine, grabbing her kit from the back knowing it would contain some of the items needed to clean her wounds.

He took a couple of swabs out of their containers, poured some alcohol on them and then cleaned out the cut thoroughly before covering it was gauze and tape. He inspected the rest of her head for cuts, bruises and bumps, not finding any. He continued down her body. Disinfecting the scratches, wiping away the dried blood and sand as best he could.

Her ankle was bruised, swollen and possibly broken. She had definitely sprained it, of that there was no doubt. He'd have to take her to the emergency room and have it check. The only problem was explaining her current state. If he waited till she sobered up they would want to know why she didn't come in when the accident happened.

His mind went back to her mental state. The nurses and doctors would surely notice she was suicidal, if not she was awefully close. There was a chance that they would admit her to a psych ward.

"Damn!" He wanted to help her but helping her would mean she'd be found out. Being found out meant loosing everything she'd worked for. He couldn't and wouldn't do that to her. He'd take her after he blood alcohol levels fell to normal levels. He would just tell the physician that they didn't think her ankle was seriously injured when it happened.

Next on his list was Lily Flynn, Catherine's mom.

"Willow's residence."

"Lily, this is Gil Grissom. I'm calling about Catherine."

"She still hasn't come home."

"I know, she's with me."

"That figures."

"Lily, listen. She's hurt. I'm going to take her to the hospital. If anyone from the lab calls for either of us tell them to call me on my cell."

"Hurt? What happened?"

"She fell, twisted her ankle. I'll bring her home later. Didn't want you to worry."

"Why would I worry? She left here drunk after pissing off Lindsey. She deserves what she gets." Lily hung up before Gil could respond.

Gil looked at his watch. They were due back at the lab in five hours. He needed to get that taken care of. He quickly dialed Warrick's cell.

"Brown." His voice was groggy.

"Warrick, it's Grissom"

"Yo, Gris. Why are you calling at this hour? Something wrong?"

"No. Yes. Well not really. I just need you to cover Swing and Graveyard tonight. My mom called. She needs me to come out for a few days to help her with something."

"Cath can't do it?"

"She , um fell down. Hurt her ankle. Called me about an hour ago."

"How bad?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Just said it hurts pretty bad so she's going to stay home."

"Uh, Gris. Why didn't she call me or Nick since we're on her team?"

"Old habits I guess. You've done it also." Warrick laughed. This was true. He'd called Grissom several times by accident when he was running late.

"No problem."

"Thanks, Warrick. I owe you." Gil hung up.

Next he looked through the Denali searching for materials to use for a make-shift splint for her ankle. He gently lifted her leg onto his lap and put the splint in place, securing it with crime scene tape. The discomfort this caused Catherine was enough to wake her.

"Ouch!" She pulled her leg away from him, slamming it into the seat in the process. "Ah!" The pain she felt was intense. Her reaction was to jerk her leg again but Gil grabbed it before she could inflict more damage on it.

"Calm down." He tried to still her but she pulled away.

"My leg."

"You fell."

"What?"

"You fell in the desert when you were running. I'm fairly certain you've broken your ankle." She looked at her leg and saw the make-shift splint. Still being somewhat inebriated she laughed.

"So you processed it as a crime scene?" She laughed loudly.

"I was attempting to make a splint so you wouldn't do any more damage."

"So, are we going to stay here in the desert or what?"

"Catherine, you can't drive. You're still drunk."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"I am not!" Gil saw that arguing the point would go nowhere fast so he decided to try another tactic, which when he thought about it made much more sense.

"Your ankle---you can't drive with that ankle."

"Oh yes I can!" A drunk Catherine was infinitely more stubborn and determined than a sober Catherine. She moved to get out of the Denali.

"I wouldn't do that…" But she did.

"Damn! Catherine fell to the ground in pain. Gil sat where he was.

"I tried to tell…"

"Shut up!" She attempted to pull herself up only to fall back down the instant she put pressure on her foot. She glared at Gil who was still sitting in the car.

"A little help. Please." She held her hand out for him to pull her up. Gil just looked at her without moving.

"Fine. I'll just stay where I'm at." She ran her hands aimlessly through the dirt and sand, throwing pebbles at nothing in particular.

"OK. I'm drunk. I'll admit it. So what. It's not like it's illegal." Catherine took a cautious glance at Gil.

"Besides it's not like I was busted off the strip like Sara was." Her hand stumbled over a stick. She picked it up and began tracing circles in the sand.

"You came to her rescue though, didn't you? I'll be she was a LOT more grateful than me." She paused to see his reaction.

"Of course she was probably disappointed when you got her apartment seeing how you do not indulge in 'personal stuff.' Probably had to get herself off after you left."

"Catherine." His voice was tight but she didn't notice.

"Probably has a vibrator in her bedside table. Or maybe she has a fuck buddy she called after you left. Probably didn't mind her screaming your name while he banged her."

"Catherine stop it." He knew she was still drunk but she was pushing the line.

"At least I hope he didn't. That happened once when me and Eddie were fucking each other. He was so pisssed. Hell, I was shocked myself. It came out of nowhere. He was pounding me…"

"Catherine."

"…hard and fast and I'm screaming…"

"Catherine."

"…and all of a sudden I scream out…Gil, what do you do to get off? I mean I know you have to do something. We all do. God, Eddie! When he heard me he slapped the shit out of me and just went at me harder than he was before. I tried to get him to stop but…well, aren't you going to tell me?" She waited for him to answer but he didn't

"I think that's the night Lindsey was conceived. Probably explains why she's such a bitch." Still no response from Gil.

"Should have never had her. Wouldn't have if Eddie hadn't stopped me. Well, he didn't really stop me. He had some coke and well I just couldn't resist." His face was red and she could see the veins in his forehead throbbing. "Next thing you know we're going at each other and I scream out that name again. Well, with both of us being high it turned into this major fight. Eddie was beating the shit out of me and it hit me. There was this life inside me and all of a sudden I felt this urge to protect it. And I feel myself fighting back with all I've got. I broke three of his ribs. And for what? A 12 year old brat who hates my guts." She looks back at him and sees the pain in his eyes.

"You never did answer the question. How do you get off? I'll bet you do it at the lab because you're always there. In the observation room while Brass is talking to some hooker? Or maybe in the evidence room? Or is it the morgue? Maybe you like to fuck recently dead women. Bodies still somewhat warm but no risk of a response that would make you reveal anything more about yourself." He was now biting his lip.

"I'll bet you couldn't even get it up with a live woman." She pulls herself back into the Denali.

"Shit! That hurts." She leans on Gil as she drags her leg up behind her.

"See, I can take you in my hand and nothing." She slid her hand into his pants, grabbing his manhood roughly. Gil pushed her away but she just came back again.

"I knew it. Can't even stand the touch of a live woman." She hissed in his ear as her hand slid back down to his pants.

"Oh, what's this? Either I got my wish or you do respond to live women." She was stroking him hard now.

"So which is it? Am I dead or are you wanting this?" Gil tries to push her away again with no success.

"I know you want it. I know you want me." She straddles him as best she can without moving her ankle.

"You want to know a secret. It was your name I was screaming when I was fucking Eddie." She was still hissing into his ear. "It was your fault he beat the shit out of me. It's your fault I have a fucking kid. It's your fault I'm here right now." She pulled off of him before he could come.

"You took away what I wanted most today. Now I'm taking what you want away from you. Go to hell, Gil!"

She never noticed the look on his face or the fact that he never touched her while she was on top of him. She didn't notice his silence. Or the fact that he just sat there, watching her, not worried about his needs. Even if she had she wouldn't have cared.


	3. Chapter 3

disclaimer: not mine

a/n: thanks rissa and sydne for your help

Gil sat there not moving as Catherine dragged herself off of him and into the passenger's seat, her words cutting through him more than her actions. What the hell was she thinking? Of course his body responded to her touch. He was human. Hell any man with a pulse would have responded to her touch. The more primal parts of him wanted to grab her and finish what she started. But the words she said cut through him like a knife. She wanted to hurt him and she did more than she would ever know.

It was taking everything within him not to leave her in the desert so she could carry out whatever the hell it was she wanted to do to herself. If it had been anyone else he would have left but they shared a history and no matter what she said or did he would be there for her. He just hoped Philip would arrive before she could do any more damage to their relationship.

He looked at the passengers seat. Her head rested against the window as tears fell silently down her face. He stayed where he was, the desire to do any more for her was now gone. As far as Gil was concerned she could rot in the hell she had built for herself. No woman had ever talked to him in that way and no woman ever would again, of that he would make sure. All he had wanted to do was help and she had emasculated him with her words and actions. Was this really how she saw him? She was still drunk but even when she was drunk Catherine usually meant what she said. Was he really so closed off that… No. He was not. He knew this. So why? Why would she say those words to him? Why would she do what she did to him?

It didn't matter really. She had said them and she had done what she did. And the wound was there. It was in his groin where she had touched him. The feel of her skin touching his and working him into a state of arousal. The feel of her straddled over him grinding him. The smell of the alcohol on her breath. The heat from her body as she hissed those words into his ears. All of him was wounded. No matter how regretful she might be later these were wounds that would never heal for Gil Grissom.

He looked to his watch. It wouldn't be much longer before Philip and Louise arrived. He could hold out for a while longer knowing that this ordeal was nearly over. He looked back at Catherine. She was still crying. He needed to get away from her but he couldn't leave her like this. He settled for standing at the back of the SUV. It would put some distance between them. Right now he wanted the distance. If she did something stupid he was close enough to where he would probably stop her.

This thought bothered Gil. Before her words he would definitely have stopped her if she tried something stupid. Now he "probably" would stop her. Was he really capable of allowing her to harm herself? He'd always saw himself as a compassionate man but right now he wasn't so sure. How would he react if she were to attempt to kill herself? Would he truly let her go through with it and not lift a hand? Could he watch as his friend lay their dying? Yes, he could. The answer in his head was quick and clear.

Before he had the chance to question his thoughts he heard the sound of a vehicle moving towards them. He looked in the direction of the noise and was able to make out Philip and Louise's car. Relief washed through him knowing he had only minutes to left to spend with Catherine. Mere minutes before he could leave her. Minutes before he could begin putting up the wall that would never let someone close enough to treat him like this again.

The cranberry Saab stopped beside the Denali. Philip Kane, a rotund balding black man in his 50s exited the passengers side. His wife, Louise, a woman in her 40s with gray streaks running through her hair, exited from the drivers side of the vehicle. They approached Gil together.

"What's going on?" Philip noticed the anger and hurt in Gil's face and posture immediately.

"She's in the front seat. Why don't you talk to her?" Gil wasn't about to tell anyone what had transpired just a few minutes ago. Philip knew Gil well enough to know that was all he would get so he walked around to the passenger's side door. Louise stayed with Gil, sitting beside him on the bumper.

"Whatever it is, whatever has happened, you know we are hear for you."

"I didn't call you out here for me."

"I know Gil, but something's going on and eventually you'll want to talk about it. When you do Philip and I will be there for you."

"Thanks Louise, I appreciate it." He took her hand in his and squeezed it, showing her he appreciated her concern.

Philip was standing outside the passengers door observing Catherine. When he first saw her she was staring out into the desert with tears streaming down her face. The minute she noticed him she turned away. Philip tapped the door in order to get Catherine to open it. She ignored him. He tapped it once again and received the same response. He tapped it a third time and when she didn't move he opened the door himself.

"Catherine." It wasn't a greeting but a command to look at him, a command she ignored. He was silent as he observed her body language. Her posture was that of someone who was utterly defeated. Her arms were wrapped in defiance against anyone who dared approach her. He saw the splint on her ankle and knew that if it wasn't for that her legs would also be wrapped in the same manner as her arms. He saw the cuts and scraps on her arms and face. The sight shocked him. The Catherine Willows he knew was strong, intelligent, and confident. She was the type of person who could make any situation she was in work for her. The woman before him was none of that.

"Catherine. We need to get you back to town so we can take care of your ankle." Her head turned towards him as she rolled her eyes at him before turning away again.

"Ok. I'm not going to make you talk about this if you don't want to. But you are getting out of this vehicle and getting into mine so we can get you back home. If you don't want to help us move you that is your choice but we will move you no matter what." Philip didn't want to tell her this. He knew moving her against her will could possibly cause more damage to her ankle. He also knew leaving her to ride with Gil was not in either of their best interests. Catherine shifted towards him to get out of the vehicle.

"Gil. Louise. I need your help." Philip called the two of them over to help move Catherine from the Denali to the Saab. Philip and Gil supported her shoulders while Louise opened the door of the Saab and set the passengers seat back to Catherine wouldn't have to put pressure on her injured ankle. Philip and Gil helped her into the seat with Gil strapping her in. Once she was secured Gil quickly walked away.

"Louise stay with her. I need to talk to Gil before we get going." Philip followed Gil back to his Mercedes, the both of them resting against the hood.

"Look, I need to know what's going on if I'm going to help her."

"I don't want to talk about it." Gil yelled. Philip realized something had happened after Gil had called him.

"OK. Let's do it this way. What did she do that made you call me?" Gil looked to his friend then to the Saab with Louise and Catherine.

"I needed to get some information regarding a case from her. I was calling her on her cell and she wouldn't answer. I called her home and she wasn't there so I tried her cell again, still no answer. It's not like her to just let calls go so I became worried. I kept calling and finally she picked up. She didn't sound like herself, her words were slurred and she was angry that I had interrupted her."

"Interrupted what?" Gil didn't answer. "Gil, I have to know if I'm going to help her."

"She was out her because she was going to do some coke."

"Catherine? That doesn't sound like her."

"She, uh, she had a problem in the past."

"I didn't know."

"A lot of people don't know. Anyway, I managed to find out where she was and when I got here she had the lines laid out on a mirror in the back of the Denali. She hadn't touched them but they were ready for her. We got into an argument and she ran. She tripped over something and knocked herself out. That's also how she hurt her ankle. I brought her back here and then I called you." Gil stopped here not wanting to go any further.

"And then what?" Philip knew there was a reason for Gil stopping and he needed to know it.

"And then you arrived. End of story." Gil wasn't talking.

"It's alright Gil. This will give me enough to start with. We can discuss the other later. Louise can drive your car and you drive Catherine's car. We need to get back." Philip walked back to the Saab, explaining to Louise what they were doing. Louise got into Gil's Mercedes, Gil climbed into Catherine's Denali and Philip into the Saab. Philip and Catherine pulled out first with the others following behind him. The desolation of the desert faded behind them quickly as they made their way back to Vegas.

About 15 minutes into the drive Philip turned on his XM Radio settling on an old school R&B station that was belting out Al Green's Tired of Being Alone. He sang along with the soulful singer. About halfway through the song Catherine surprised him and began singing also. They both continued singing as the next song started. Five songs later Catherine's demeanor had slightly improved. Philip reached over and turned the music down.

"You like the classics?"

"Yeah, some of the bands Eddie used to hang around with played this stuff."

"Eddie?"

"My ex-husband. Had this crazy idea he was a band manager."

"Was he?"

"Not really. Never made any money with it. Mainly used it as a way to pick up women. Promises of big things for them. Worked ever time."

"Did it work on you?"

"I married him."

"Why did you leave him?"

"Caught him in our bed with another woman. We tried marital therapy but there wasn't enough there to start with for us to save."

"Did you love him?"

"Yeah. At the time." Catherine turned the radio back up so that she wouldn't have to talk any more. The silence between the two continued for the next 20 miles or so. Catherine was the one to break this silence.

"He was shot and killed two and a half years ago. Lindsey was almost killed with him"

"Lindsey?"

"Our daughter. She was with him and nearly drowned."

"The murder was caught?"

"No. They couldn't find enough evidence to convict anyone."

"I'm sure Gil did everything he could."

"Gil? Oh please! He didn't even work the case. Assigned it to Sara instead." The bitterness in her voice came through loud and clear. Catherine turned the radio up again. Philip knew this was an avoidance technique but let it slide knowing that it was more beneficial for her to open up on her own than for him to press her into revealing what was going on. They rode in silence again.

"Lindsey blames all of it on me. The divorce. His death. The fact that his killer is still out there." This time she spoke with regret. "I blame myself too. I took her father from her when I divorced him. I saved her and couldn't save him. His body wasn't even in the vehicle." They were coming into the Vegas metro area now.

"Catherine, how about we get that ankle checked before we take you home?"

"Sounds good to me. It hurts like hell." It did hurt like hell and the thought of the pain medication was appealing to Catherine.

"How did you do it?" It was a casual question.

"I tripped over a rock." Short and to the point. This was the Catherine that Philip had dealt with in the past.

"That's what you get for playing tag with Gil in the desert." Philip was trying to keep things light so she would keep talking.

"Yeah. But no one told me the rocks were on his side."

"You know Gil, the rocks and bugs are always on his side. You're lucky he didn't have scorpions attack you." Catherine laughed. The image of Gil commanding an army of insects filled her mind.

"Why were you running?" It was a simple question.

"Because he wouldn't leave me alone."

"Was he trying to hurt you?"

"Gil? No. He stopped me from…he just wouldn't leave." Catherine closed up not wanting to talk about what happened between the two of them. Silence ensued once more. This time neither spoke until they pulled into the hospital. Philip parked the care at the ER entrance.

"I'll be right back with a chair so we can get you in there." He took the keys and walked into the Emergency Room to get an attendant and a wheel chair so they could move Catherine. Gil and Louise had pulled in behind him, both going to the visitors parking area. When Philip returned Louise and Gil were waiting for him at the car.

"Gil, why don't you go home. We'll take it from here."

"I'm not leaving her. I promised."

"Gil, you don't need to be here so go home."

"Her car. I need to clean it…"

"I'll make sure it's taken care of. Now go." Seeing that Philip wasn't going to back down and that he and Louise would make sure Catherine was alright he went to his car and left. It had been a long day. Gil was physically and emotionally drained. All he wanted was to be home in his townhouse laying in his bed, watching the discovery on his big screen tv while doing his crosswords.

Philip and Louise helped Catherine out of the car after Gil had left. They wheeled her in to the hospital. Louise sat with Catherine while Philip talked to the receptionist. The doctor on duty was a good friend of his so he decided to use that to get Catherine out of the waiting area and into a room. Even though Gil hadn't said it Philip knew he was trying to protect her career and he would do what he could to help them both. Louise stayed in the lobby to wait for them.

Philip and the attendant helped Catherine onto the bed, the attendant propping her ankle onto a couple of pillows so that it would be elevated and she wouldn't put pressure on it. He then left them to wait for the doctor.

"Catherine, tell me what really happened today." Philip was ready to get down to business.

"I told you." She didn't want to tell him why Gil was there.

"Catherine, I'm here because Gil thought I could help you." Philip took a seat beside the counter.

"Is that what he told you? I need help? That's rich. He's just using you to document what happened so his ass is covered when I'm fired." Catherine laid back against the bed.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because the lab is the most important thing in his life. Nothing comes before or after it. And anything or anyone who puts that at risk has to go." Her words were spoken as fact, not in anger and not with hatred.

"But he dropped everything to find you today." Philip decided Catherine needed to know this now.

"Probably needed me for something with a case."

"Did he mention anything about a case to you?"

"No." She said defiantly.

"What did he do?" Philip decide to push Catherine just a little since she wasn't wanting to talk.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter." This time the bitterness and hatred in her voice was evident. Philip actually entertained the thought that Gil might have done something to her.

"Catherine, did Gil hurt you in any way?"

"What? Are you kidding? NO. He wouldn't do that. Gil's not that kind of man." Catherine immediately picked up on what Philip was hinting at. As angry as she was at Gil she wasn't about to let anyone think he would harm her or touch her if she didn't want it.

"Then why are you so angry with him?" Philip continued to push her.

"Because he stopped me." Her voice was raised loud enough that a nurse momentarily stopped what she was doing to look in. Seeing that all was fine she quickly left.

"Stopped you from doing what?" Philip knew he was onto the real reason now.

"It doesn't matter. It's over." She turned away from Philip.

"Apparently it does matter, Catherine, otherwise you wouldn't be angry with him."

"It's not important any more. Can we please talk about something else?" She really didn't feel like discussing the matter.

"No, I want to discuss this. Why isn't it important to you anymore?"

"Because. It doesn't matter."

"You said that already."

"Fine. You really want to know? Because that bastard took my coke away. He stopped me from doing the first line when he called."

"Why didn't you do it after you hung up?" It was a logical question. She was a grown woman. One phone call shouldn't have stopped her if she really wanted it.

"Because he would know I did it." This time it was shame that came through loud and clear.

"And that matters?"

"NO." She paused briefly. "Yes, it matters. I didn't want him to see me like that again."

"Again?"

"I'm a recovering addict." It took her a moment to say this. Catherine had never been one to hide her past but to refer to herself as an addict of any sort was not something she usually did.

"How long has it been since your last line?" Philip was beginning to understand a little more now.

"About 11 years. I quit when Lindsey was two."

"What made you quit?"

"Eddie. He needed the money for a recording studio he wanted to add on to the house."

"So you didn't want to quit?"

"No." Philip was shocked that it had been so long. Normally an addict would relapse within a short time if they had quit for someone else.

"Why did you go so long without a relapse then?"

"Lindsey. I love her more than anything. She deserved for her mom to be clean. Lord knows her dad wasn't."

"So both of you had drug issues?" Philip grabbed some paper towels from the counter and began to make notes for later. Catherine was going to need counseling for a while.

"Yeah, it's why the marriage worked as well as it did. When we were both high things were great. It wasn't till after I cleaned up that we started having problems." Regretfully this was the truth.

"What happened?"

"We argued. Eddie hit me a few times. He started sleeping around." Catherine remembered the first time Eddie hit her and how she had blamed herself. She remembered how sorry he was and how he promised to never touch her like that again.

"And?"

"I came home early one night and there was a woman in our bed with him. I just stood there staring. I couldn't yell at him. I couldn't leave. I just stared at them lying naked in our bed, her on top of Eddie."

"OK, so how does this all tie in with Gil?" Philip was steering her back to his original question now.

"What?" Catherine was caught off guard.

"Why didn't you want Gil to see you do the coke?" Catherine gave him "the look" expecting him to back off but Philip just continued to look at her, waiting on her answer.

"I don't want to see the look in his eyes when he realizes what I've done."

"But why does that bother you?" She put her head in her hands, searching desperately for what it was she wanted to say.

"The look. It's like his soul has been crushed, but it's not his. It's mine. It's like I've crushed my soul in his eyes. My pain it's in his eyes staring back at me. And his soul is feeling everything I'm feeling. I can't stop his pain because it is my pain only he's the one feeling it. That makes no sense but I don't really know how else to describe it."

"No, you did fine. Now tell me this. If you see your pain in him why do you think he'd want you to be fired?"

"To stop the pain." In Catherine's mind that was the only reason. He was tired of her causing him pain. Tired enough to find a reason for her to be fired in order to get her out of his life.

"So you are saying you want to be fired to stop this pain?" It was a simple statement that contained the truth of the matter. Catherine thought about it for a moment before answering.

"I guess." She wasn't going to concede that it was her pain and her desire to be fired but she would give Philip the benefit of the doubt.

"What's causing this pain Catherine?" Before she could answer the doctor entered the room.


	4. Chapter 4

disclaimers and what not in other chapters. thanks to lora and thais for their help on this chapter.

Dr. Jackson Shriver, a tall blonde man with a slightly athletic build, entered the room halting the conversation between the two of them. He looked at his patient seeing the wounds on her face and arms, the brace on her leg and the general disshelved appearance of her clothing. He picked up the chart and quickly read through it, seeing she only listed her ankle as needing treatment.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Shriver. You must be Catherine." He extended his arm in greeting.

"Hi."

"I see we think our ankle has been broken. What we're we doing when this happened?"

Philip spoke up before Catherine could answer him.

"She was working in her yard when she caught her leg on the flowerbed and fell." It was an obvious lie but Jackson understood that whatever had happened to this woman Philip was taking care of it.

"Thanks Philip." He began his examination of Catherine, immediately noticing the odor of alcohol on her breath. Then he did a cursory examination of her cuts and scraps just to satisfy him that there was nothing that truly needed treatment. Finally he removed the makeshift splint from her ankle to look at it. It was swollen and discolored and had several cuts on the outer side. There was also a small bone protruding under the skin that was obviously not where it was supposed to be.

"We're going to get you into X-Ray. This ankle is definitely broken but we need to find out how extensive the damage is. I'll have the attendant bring the chair back to wheel you down there. We'll do this as quickly as possible." Even though he referred to most everyone, including himself, in the third person whenever possible he was a caring man. At that he walked out of the room leaving Catherine and Philip alone again.

"Great. Just what I need. I'll be stuck in the lab for at least a month now." Her voice was laced with resentment. It was the last thing she wanted, weeks of nothing but pushing paper work and dealing with bureaucracy. Weeks of being hands off on any case her shift was given.

"So you don't really want to loose your job after all?" Philip suppressed a small grin. The fact that she was angry at the prospect of being stuck in the lab was a good sign that even though she was depressed she wasn't suicidal. If she were truly suicidal she wouldn't have cared.

"What? Oh I guess not. Maybe I just need a vacation. Maybe being stuck in the lab would give me a break." She sighed, running her hands through her hair pushing it away from her face.

"I think you may be right. I have a feeling that that ankle's going to get you some time off though." Philip knew she'd be homebound for a few weeks. It would give her the time needed for her physical recovery and a good start on her mental recovery.

"Probably a good idea since I won't be able to drive." It hit her that she truly would be homebound because she wouldn't be able to drive for a while. How was she going to get Lindsey to and from school? What about groceries? What about all the little annoying errands that are necessary to survive? She leaned back against the bed in frustration.

"Catherine, you've got friends who I guarantee will be willing to help you. And Louise and I can also help. Don't let transportation upset you." The attendant walked in with the wheelchair.

"Mrs. Willows, you ready?" He helped her down from the bed and into the chair. Philip opened the door for them to leave.

"I'm going to find Jackson. It's been a while since we've talked. Then Louise and I will grab a bite from the cafeteria. We should be back by the time you are done in x-ray." He watched as the attendant wheeled Catherine towards x-ray then went to find Doctor Shriver.

He found the good doctor in the lounge scarfing down a cold double whopper with cheese and some fries that looked like they had seen better days.

"You know that stuff will kill you." The two were close enough that "hello" was not their normal greeting. Philip took a seat across from his friend.

"So care to tell me what is actually going on with this woman? She looks as if she were attacked by someone," Jackson said curtly. The good doctor had grown up in an abusive environment. It was one of the reasons he had chosen to be an ER doctor. It gave him an opportunity to reach out to victims in an effort to stop the chain of abuse.

"Jackson, you're jumping to conclusions." Philip saw the discussion ahead and knew it would have to be addressed without giving too much information about what really happened.

"I think I know the signs. She's been treated here in the past, although it's been several years since the last instance. Not only that, she's employed by the city and is not using her insurance. If it looks like a duck and talks like a duck then it's a duck."

"Unless it's a swan." Philip's mind recalled the children's story.

"She's having some problems. She tripped and fell. Unfortunately if her employer found out what happened she would loose her job. A mutual friend called me to help him get her here." Jackson stared at Philip in disbelief. That was one of the most ridiculous stories he'd ever heard.

"I swear he's not that kind of man. Listen, I believe she's clinically depressed. She's not a danger to herself or anyone else. I'm going to be seeing her and we'll get a handle on it and hopefully find the cause." Philip picked through Jackson's fries trying to find one that wasn't cold and soggy.

"Jackson, you know me well enough to know I wouldn't cover up abuse. Help me help her." He looked earnestly at his friend who was inhaling what was left of his whopper.

"The ankle goes on the insurance. The story you gave me will be the story I put in the record. She's going to need therapy for that ankle; it will be better if her insurance covers it. She's going to be out of work at least three weeks during her recovery." The whole idea went against every fiber of Jackson's being but he trusted Philip.

"Acceptable."

"I'll leave the psych meds to you since you will be treating her, with the exception of a Xanax I'll give her before she leaves."

"No Xanax."

"Philip, the woman is stressed. It is a perfectly acceptable treatment."

"Not in this case. I don't want her taking anything with addictive qualities." Jackson opened his mouth to argue the point but Philip cut him off.

"She had a history of addiction. Now is not the time to risk a new one."

"Philip, the more I find out about her the more I'm against this. I'm giving the you the benefit of a doubt only because…" Jackson paused trying to think of a reason, "…well I just am."

"Thanks. Listen, Louise has been waiting patiently in the lobby during all this. I need to get her some dinner while Catherine is in x-ray." Philip stood to leave.

"Louise? Hold up, I'll go with you. I haven't seen her in quite a while." The two men left the lounge and headed for the lobby, chatting amicably about their kids the whole time.

Philip and Louise made it back to the examining room a few minutes before Catherine and the attendant. Dr. Shriver wasn't far behind. He had the x-rays in an envelope in his hand.

"Ms. Willows it looks like it was a clean break. We're going to fit you with a temporary boot until you can see your orthopedic physician. He will do more x-rays before determining the course of your physical therapy. Expect to be off of work for a minimum of three weeks, if not longer. In the meantime I want you to stay off of that leg. I want absolutely no pressure put on that foot understand? Good. Now I'm also writing you a script for Bexar. That should help with the pain and inflammation. Philip's assured me that both he and Louise will help you out during your recovery. My advice to you would be to use this time to your advantage. Philip's an amazing psychiatrist. Whatever really happened to you needs to be addressed so that you don't end up in the same situation again. If I see you again under the same circumstances you can be assured I will notify the authorities." Jackson left the room without another word to any of them.


	5. Chapter 5

disclaimers in previous chapters

Gil lay on his sofa in his townhouse. The sounds of Robert Plant filled the room. Four hours ago he'd left her at the hospital with Philip and Louise. Four hours ago he broke the promise he had made to her. Feelings of guilt plagued him but not because he had broken that promise. He felt guilty because he no longer gave a damn about the promise.

Catherine had made it perfectly clear what she thought of him. Lifeless, unfeeling and distant. Not worthy of the loving touch of any woman. She had humiliated him. Touching him, bringing him to the brink only to cut him to the core. He had trusted her, lowered his walls, let her into his life in a way that he had never let anyone in before. The bond of friendship and trust they had built over the passing of two decades had been shattered in mere minutes by her hatred of him.

He rose from the sofa, unable to find a comfortable position. There was a bottle of scotch in the kitchen with his name on it that would help to calm his nerves. He poured himself a shot and swallowed it quickly. The hot amber liquid burning his inside as it flowed quickly from his mouth to his stomach. The first shot was quickly followed by a second shot but no calmness followed. No numbing of the emotions as alcohol usually does. He put the scotch away, deciding instead to try a hot shower to see if that would relieve his severed nerves.

He turned the hot water tap to full, opting to leave the cold tap off. He quickly shed his clothing as steam began to fill the bathroom. Slowly he stepped into the scalding shower allowing the hot pulsating jets of water to wash away the dirt and grim of the desert, hoping the heat would ease the turmoil inside his body. He stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity, his eyes closed and his head lowered.

The water had already begun to cool when he finally reached for his shampoo. He placed a small dollop in his hand and began to massage it through his scalp and beard, closing his eyes again as his fingers quickly worked through his hair. He washed his face, neck and ears thoroughly with the remaining suds before bending his head back to allow the water to wash all of it away.

He tucked his head back into the water, running his hand over and around his ear washing away the shampoo he had missed moments ago. He picked up the soap, lathering up before he began washing his chest. The sand was embedded in his skin. He scrubbed vigorously to remove all of it. He returned to washing his body, scrubbing his torso, back and legs. He then proceeded to wash his member.

His body, still reeling from Catherine's touch, eagerly responded, desperate to achieve the completion it had been denied not long ago. Overtaken with frustration his hand moved quickly. Gil just wanted it to be over. There was no pleasure in this for him. He stroked harder and faster, willing himself to come but his body wouldn't cooperate. He was at the brink again but his body refused to go any further. He stroked harder and faster but still couldn't come. The more he stroked the further he felt from his release. It was a furious battle with his body. Pain suddenly pulsated through his member as if he had been burned by the water. He jumped out of the shower, quickly drying off. He reached into the medicine chest above his sink, pulling out a tube of Cortaid. He quickly examined his penis and found nothing that would explain the pain and itching. He applied the salve to his now-flaccid member. After dressing he crawled into his bed for a fitful night's sleep.


End file.
